


My Clock is Standing Still

by americanhoney913



Series: Smells Like Home [2]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/F, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 22:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18647578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanhoney913/pseuds/americanhoney913
Summary: Dear someoneHave you ever wanted outOf all the stressfulnessAll the busynessYou could do withoutTake all of your worriesThrow them awayEvery day should be a fun dayThat's what I sayTake all of my worriesAnd burn them upEvery day will be a fun dayUnlock my handcuffs-- Dream Life, Life, Colbie Caillat***These are her favorite days, when they can just relax after a hard few weeks in the ring, and be together. Reset after all the fighting they do in and out of the ring. It’s so hard to be in an in-ring feud with her omega, but Becky’s never been one to back down from a challenge, and Charlotte will indulge her in anything. She also knows her alpha wouldn't have chosen a weak omega that brought her no challenge; instead, it brought her the most hardheaded Irish lass with a smart mouth and a hard fist.





	My Clock is Standing Still

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another ABO for Charlynch! Hopefully this universe makes sense to people.
> 
> Thank you to those that have encouraged me. I love you!

Charlotte loves when her vacation days off line up with Becky’s, especially when they have a long gap between matches where they can go home. She purrs when Becky snuggles into her side, a sleepy whine exiting her mouth. It’s later than they usually wake up, around ten, and Charlotte tangles her fingers in red hair. 

The sun shines through the window and makes Becky’s hair looks like a sunset. Her eyes are still closed, covering those brown eyes Charlotte loves. When the blonde takes a big breath of the fresh morning breeze coming through the window, Becky’ s scent washes over her, makes her body relax and calm into the covers. She smells like campfires Charlotte remembers going on with Reid in high school, like summer nights catching fireflies in the backyard before the chill rolls in. Charlotte runs her fingertips over Becky’s bare shoulder and she’s thankful that Becky likes to push the covers off during the night if she gets too hot.

Becky’s breath rustles some of the hair curling at Charlotte’s nape and she moves in with a sleepy grunt to press her nose to the bitemark situated on the blonde’s neck, huffing into her skin. Goosebumps travel up her spine and Charlotte wrap her arm tighter around the fiery redhead.

“Charlie,” Becky whines when the blonde uses her other hand to massage her fingers through her hair.

“Good morning, babe.”

“Too bright.”

Charlotte chuckles and shakes her head but presses a kiss to Becky’s hair.

“You smells like flowers,” Becky says in a kind of throwaway comment, but it makes Charlotte’s heart grow. She knows Becky has a big connection to flowers, being something her mom used to grow back in Ireland.

Becky drifts back off after a few minutes, but Charlotte checks the clock again and they need to get going if they want to go to that farmer’s market before it closes. Because she knows Becky can sleep all day if she’s allowed, so it’s up to Charlotte to wake her up.

“Becks, come on.” She uses her shoulder to jolt Becky a bit. The redhead grumbles and rolls over, allowing the blanket to settle around her waist. She moves her arm so it hangs over her side of the bed.

These are her favorite days, when they can just relax after a hard few weeks in the ring, and be together. Reset after all the fighting they do in and out of the ring. It’s so hard to be in an in-ring feud with her omega, but Becky’s never been one to back down from a challenge, and Charlotte will indulge her in anything. She also knows her alpha wouldn't have chosen a weak omega that brought her no challenge; instead, it brought her the most hardheaded Irish lass with a smart mouth and a hard fist.

The blonde rests her hand on Becky’s back, not pressing, just letting it rise and fall with each inhale-exhale. Becky whines when Charlotte scratches gently with her nails, but she doesn’t protest. “Come on, Becks, get up.” She presses a little bit of a command into it, lets a little more alpha seep into her voice until Becky rolls around and glares at her.

“I hate it when you do that,” she grumbles as she sits up in bed, pressing the blanket against her chest, much to Charlotte’s dismay. “Do we really have to go?”

“I mean, we don’t have to,” Charlotte says as she moves down on the bed to sit next to Becky’s torso. “But I’d really like to get some fresh stuff so we have it in the house while we’re here.”

“But we’re only gonna be here for a few more days. It would be a waste of money and produce.” Becky shuffles back and leans against the headboard. Charlotte scoots over to her and straddles her lap. She runs her hands through Becky’s hair, fluffs it up around her neck, and presses their foreheads together.

“Please,” Charlotte breathes, “for me?” She can’t help it, but there’s a little bit of alpha rolling off her. Not enough for Becky to mindlessly agree, but enough for her to know that Charlotte wants this.

Becky grumbles and rolls her neck and she won’t look at Charlotte, but she ultimately sighs and nods her head. Charlotte squeals and shuffles off of Becky’s lap. She does a dorky little dance and begins digging through her side of the drawer. She can feel Becky’s eyes on her body, scanning up and down. Charlotte’s naked as the day she was born and she smiles when Becky’s arousal starts to become heavy in the air.

“Right now?” Becky asks. She puts her hand on Charlotte’s hips and presses her body against the blonde’s back. “Can’t we stay in bed for a little longer?” Her voice turns into a purr and her scent gets stronger, laced with the sweet tinge of arousal.

Charlotte shivers, rolling her body back into Becky’s. The redhead moans and bites at her shoulder, opposite the bite mark. “The market closes at four, Becks, and it’s almost noon. You know that if we get back into bed, we’re gonna be there until at least sundown.” She smirks. “And you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Becky pulls away and goes to sit on the bed. She sits there, waits. 

Charlotte turns around after a few minutes of silence to see the redhead twiddling her thumbs, looking nervous. “You okay?” she asks as she gathers her clothes and sets them next to Becky. The omega bites her lip and curls a little further into herself, but her hand reaches out for Charlotte, her eyes full of something vulnerable and almost… nervous? “Talk to me.”

Becky shrugs, her scent burning down to embers instead of a roaring fire. Charlotte puts a hand against the nape of her neck and squeezes slightly then releases. Becky goes limp in her arms and turns to bury her face against Charlotte’s collarbone. The blonde’s stomach clenches because Becky was so playful before, so what happened?

She knows this happens sometimes with Becky. Happy one moment, but sullen the next. Both of them don’t know what causes it, but it happens and they deal with it as best they can.

“What do you need?”

Becky responds by tilting her head to show her bitemark, a sign that Charlotte takes to mean she needs more than just her at the moment. She needs her alpha and Charlotte’s going to do what she can to reassure Becky she’s here.

* * *

Sometimes Charlotte can hardly believe her life is real.

The farmer’s market smells like fresh bread from the portable ovens the bakers bring. The tomatoes shine in the sunlight. The grass tickles her toes through her sandals and she smiles when she feels a hand slide into hers. Just half a step behind her, Becky's arm pressed against Charlotte’s. The farmer’s market is bustling and Becky bumps up against her from behind as they weave through the crowd. 

There’s old man Marcus selling meat he hand-raises on his farm, Suzanne with her homegrown produce that always looks amazing, the Galett twins with their wicker baskets sitting behind their tent working on some more. This is a whole community of people that Charlotte’s fallen in love with. This scene feels like a home away from home and Charlotte’s told Becky many times that she definitely would have been one of these people if wrestling hadn’t worked out.

She pauses at Roxanne’s booth, the old beta florist with gnarled fingers and a kind smile. She nudges Becky up to the table, inclining her head to one of the bouquets on display in clear permission. Becky nods and lets go of her hand to purchase the flowers, her lips curling up, eyes fluttering shut. She’s so captivating Charlotte has to kiss her, sweet and soft and slow on the lips and Becky whines into her mouth. Roxanne smiles at them, cooing and talking about her own omega back at the farm. 

She closes her eyes and breathes in the scent of Becky mixed with the flowers growing just outside of the farmers market. The trees make the sunshine struggle a little to reach the grass, dappling patterns across the greenery. There’s a light breeze that makes all the different scents mix together and it would be dizzying if Becky wasn’t pressed behind her, scent clogging her nose in the best way possible. The blonde knows this memory will stay in her mind, Becky’s caramel-colored eyes glinting with happiness. She sighs and sways when Charlotte applies the gentlest pressure to her wrist. 

Once they’ve walked away from Roxanne, she tilts Becky’s head with her thumb and sets her teeth against her mark, but not biting. Becky whines and presses closer, hand squeezing Charlotte’s arm tightly.

They find McFeeney, another elder who sells fresh fruit and advertises the ability to pick one’s own if they come to his farm. Sometimes, when Charlotte’s home and Becky’s not, she’ll come to the farmer’s markets on Fridays and help McFeeney sell to keep her from going stir-crazy in the house alone. She loves him like a grandfather, comes to him with advice when her dad’s busy in Vegas or elsewhere. The grizzly old omega helped her come up with her first date idea with Becky- strawberry picking at his farm.

“Howdy, girls,” he greets as he tips his cowboy hat, “how y’all doin’ this fine summer day?”

She loves his accent, a deep Southern one that reminds her so much of home, of her own grandfather. He’s from Louisiana, smells like gumbo and sea spray, and he always has the best lunches when she comes to work with him. He’s practically adopted her and Becky as his grandkids since he doesn’t see his own very often.

“Doin’ well,” Charlotte answers as she rounds the stall and presses a kiss to each of his cheeks. “How’s business today?”

“Oh, we doin’ alright, Lottie,” he drawls. “Could be better if ya wanna join me.” Becky presses her forehead against the small of Charlotte’s back and McFeeney chuckles. “But today’s not a workin’ day and you girls should enjoy the sunshine.” He takes off his hat and presses it to his chest. “They’re callin’ for rain later, so y’all better hurry.” He squints. “Doesn’t look like it now. But weather, she’s a fickle creature.”

Charlotte beams at him. He smiles back and puts his hat on her head, shoving it so it covers her eyes. She turns to Becky and the redhead smiles. “Ya look good, Charlie,” she says in a small whisper.

“Proper cowgirl, you are, Lottie.” She places it back on his balding head, silver hair matted against his head from wearing the hat too long. “Y’all should come by sometime. We got that new foul out back and Robert’s workin’ her hard. A spirited one, jus’ like your girl.” He points to Becky, who smiles at him. “He called her Spitfire.”

“That’s a beautiful name,” Charlotte says as she squeezes Becky’s hand. The redhead shakes her head, squeezes her hand back, and sighs. “We should be going though. Just stopped by to say hi.”

He tips his hat again. “‘s nice to see you. Hope you come by again soon.” He chuckles. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you two. You're really doing great things out there.”

Charlotte hugs him tightly, inhales the comforting smell of the sea that follows the omega everywhere he goes. She closes her eyes and smiles as he pulls back and pats her shoulder. He doesn’t hug Becky but shakes her hand instead. The blonde loves him even more for knowing exactly what to do with Becky because she only likes Charlotte touching her when she’s like this.

“Take some stuff before you go. Keep your girl fed.” He hands her a few strawberries and an orange, which she protests again but takes when he puts the orange in her hand and covers them with both of his. “I said take them, Lottie.” She nods and hands the orange off to Becky so she can take the handful of strawberries.

Becky eats one of the strawberries right from her fingers, her cheeks going pink as McFeeney coos at them. God, it feels like the old people here are as in love with Becky as she is because all of them love her. They might interact with Charlotte more, but they all ask about Becky when she’s here alone.

She pulls Becky away from the fawning old omega and around the bend of a tree. Becky leans against it, her red hair blowing in the slight breeze, the tiny braids looking like windchimes knocking against each other. Charlotte leans against the tree next to her and Becky tucks herself under her arm, nose at her neck.

The orange makes a squishing noise as she breaks it open, digging her nail into the peel to break the skin open. Juices drop from her fingers as she continues until she can feed a piece to Becky before doing the same for herself. Becky whines and licks her fingers when she gets another piece. The smell of Becky mixes with the smell of oranges and the tang sits heavy on Charlotte’s tongue. The redhead whines when she realizes the orange is done and nudges Charlotte’s hand with her nose.

Charlotte slips two fingers, still dripping with sweet juices, into Becky’s mouth and the redhead suckles until her nose wrinkles at the sour bite of the peel remnants on Charlotte’s skin. 

“You hungry?” Charlotte asks. 

Becky smiles and nods. Charlotte wraps her arm around Becky’s waist with one arm and presses a hand against her stomach, reminiscent of their tag matches, and leaves it there. Just feeling Becky breathe against her. She smells soft and the taste of marshmallows mixing with the campfire of Becky’s omega scent makes Charlotte smile. It’s that sweetness in the back of her throat that makes Charlotte lean down and nuzzle her neck. She moves her hand from Becky’s stomach to her back. She untucks the redhead’s t-shirt and presses her hand against warm skin. 

“Sill in a mood?” Charlotte asks, checking in as she taps her nails against Becky’s back.

Becky frowns. Her face flickers and her lip draws between her teeth. Charlotte waits patiently. Eventually, after a short staring contest, Becky relaxes, sagging against the tree, and Charlotte catches her, gentle. Becky whines and bites a little at her throat, just next to where her scent is the strongest.

“I’m hungry,” Becky repeats, her voice rasping low and graveled. ‘Her Sexy-Bexy voice,’ as Charlotte remembers from their ride from Orlando to Gainesville. She loves when Becky’s voice gets like that, both in bed and out of it.

“Come on,” Charlotte says as she settles her hand on Becky’s back, “let’s go before Roxanne and McFeeney come asking about when the wedding is.”

Becky blanches and tucks her head against Charlotte's shoulder.

* * *

They leave the car in the park’s lot and walk on foot. Becky swings their hands between them, her scent calmer than it was this morning. It’s mellowed out and Charlotte inhales deeply, loving the smell of Becky’s omega scent, her sandalwood cologne, and the tiny whispers of Charlotte’s own flower garden mixing running through it. She turns to smile at Becky, touching the Baby’s-breath, Roxanne’s favorite flower, woven into another braid in her hair, one Charlotte had given her before they’d left the farmer’s market.

They decide on the diner they’ve been going to since they moved here, The Omega Diner, has been owned and operated by the same family since they opened in the 50s. The scent of pancakes on the griddle and the hiss of fries being thrown in oil sounds like Charlotte's childhood every time she walks through the door. The hostess and owner, Debbie, smiles at them as they wander over to her. 

Becky’s wrist is slender in the circle of her fingers as she leads the pliant omega with gentle touches. Debbie lets them pick out a small booth in the back, their usual, even though it’s packed and their typical booth is a four-top. The chatter of the restaurant almost drowns out Becky’s whimper, but Charlotte’s so attuned to her omega that she lays an arm on the back of the booth when she sits down. Becky slides close in a heartbeat, tucking herself under Charlotte’s arm. She exhales, the tension sliding away.

One of the waitresses, a short plucky Asian, comes by with water and a smile. Her beta scent helps Becky calm down a little and Charlotte nods gratefully at the short woman. “Here’s some waters to start you off with.”

Debbie pulls a pen from her bun, one of many that spikes from it, and taps her pad. “You want your usuals?”

Becky nods. Debbie almost floats away, the smell of grease and syrup following her as she leaves. Becky takes a deep gulp of water, completely ignoring the straw, and a few drops dribble down her chin and onto her shirt. Charlotte reaches up and wipes them away with her thumb, pressing gently on her pulse point as her fingers slide down, past her hand and down to settle on her stomach. 

Becky’s wearing a skirt, which is highly unusual for her, but she’d said when they gotten dressed this morning that she wanted to change it up, felt a little more feminine today. Charlotte loves when she completely sheds The Man and allows herself the flowy skirts and the flowery crop tops that show of muscle but also the delicate curves of her body in a way that's different from the tight muscle shirts and leather pants of her ring persona.

Charlotte plays with the hem of Becky’s skirt under the tablecloth, tracing patterns on the inside of Becky’s knee. Becky makes a quiet noise, breathy.

Debbie comes back carrying their usual, a mushroom eggwhite omelet for Charlotte and the same but with caramelized onions and spinach for Becky. “Lou says hi, by the way. She saw you come in,” Debbie says as she puts down the silverware.

“You’re working her like a horse back there, you know,” Charlotte says as she cuts into her omelet and her stomach growls. “Take her out on a date once in a while.”

“I’ll tell her you said that.” Debbie smacks the back of Charlotte’s head in the same way an older sister would. They might not be in town or have lived here that long, but Charlotte feels like she's lived here forever, like she grew up with these people, because she's inserted herself in the community and gotten so much more out it.

“Send my compliments to the chef,” Becky breaks in as she lifts a forkful of egg in the air, a little bit of cheese stringing from it. “So that she doesn’t kill my girlfriend.”

Debbie laughs and shakes her head as she pulls away to go to another table. Charlotte flicks Becky’s thigh and the redhead giggles. It’s nice to see her laughing and smiling after this morning. Those sour moods come and go and she’s glad that it’s gone now. It’s not like they can have a nice day while Becky’s in a mood. But it’s easier for her to relax, to stop being an alpha and just be Charlotte, when Becky comes back to her.

Charlotte might love life in the ring. The feel of a Championship belt around her waist, the cheers of the crowd. But this, this is better. This mundane life: sitting in a diner that smells like grease and sweet syrup, messing with the owner and her wife, a hand on Becky’s thigh. She looks up to find Becky staring at her with chipmunk cheeks full of omelet, her lips pressed together and turned up in a smile.

If she never had wrestling but got to keep Becky, this would be her dream life. Right here. Bayley and Sasha living next door, selling fruit with McFeeney on Fridays, coming to the diner on the weekends as a routine, raising a few kids.

This is her dream life and, while she wouldn’t give up wrestling for anything, but she wouldn’t mind this either.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying this universe! Because I definitely am!
> 
> Send prompts to my Tumblr: thirstyforthasmin
> 
> This also brings my total word count since I started writing for the WWE-verse to 38,068. I've never had this much energy to write and I'm hoping it gets me to 50k. If I get to 50k, I'm going to get myself a nice present. So encouragement in the form of comments really let me guys know you're excited about this and all the other stories.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and commenting!


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